


inevitable

by doja



Category: South Park
Genre: Birthday, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Kyman - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24400201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doja/pseuds/doja
Summary: On his 18th birthday, Kyle has a vision into the future and discovers he's married to Cartman. Now, he can either try to change his fate or accept the fact that he might hate Cartman a little less than he thinks he does.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman
Comments: 14
Kudos: 155





	inevitable

Early in the morning of May 26th, Kyle Broflovski was woken up the first time on his birthday to a loud clap of thunder, and the second time by his clueless family.

_“Happy 18th birthday!”_

“I just fell back asleep,” he mumbled, rubbing his sleepy eyes and sitting up in bed with a loud groan. “What time is it?”

“It’s 7am!” Sheila mused. “Right about now, 18 years ago, I was pushing you through my—“

 _“I’m up, I’m up!”_ Kyle crawled up out of bed, desperately trying to scrub the disturbing visual gift his mother had given him.

“Oh, Kyle,” she pulled him in for an aggressively tight hug. “I can’t believe my baby is a _full-grown man.”_

“I’ve been a man since my bar mitzvah,” he winced.

“And now you’re double the man,” she kissed his cheek. “Come on downstairs, I’m making latkes for breakfast. Just for you.”

He did love latkes.

Too bad things only got more discouraging from thereon.

See, lately Kyle had been in a rut. He was about to graduate high school and his lifelong dream of going to Harvard had sadly hit pavement in a resounding belly flop. He was smart and he was an achiever, but he just wasn’t good enough for Harvard, apparently. And he’d been so confident about his single application that his only back-up school was the University of Colorado Boulder. Which, wasn’t a bad school. But it wasn’t Harvard Law.

Just a week after his rejection letter had come in the mail, he received almost equally terrible news from Heidi Turner.

“I think we should break up.”

He’d racked his mind as to a reason why. Sure, she had been nice about it, but _god_ that had hurt. When they talked more extensively about it he found out she’d actually been planning on dumping him much sooner, but didn’t want to break up with him right after he’d been rejected from his dream school. No wonder she’d been so avoidant that last week of their relationship.

All bad things were supposed to come in threes, but those had been his two. And now he was wondering when exactly that third and final blow was going to strike him down onto his knees.

A lot of it had been built up over time. He’d always been a good student, but perhaps he’d slowed down by the time he’d reached his senior year of high school. He couldn’t afford to slow down and also rock his Harvard application. And his love life hadn’t been successful for a long time by then, maybe years. His relationships with girls always felt empty and sad. And even a little forced. Heidi had been no exception. Take two of their relationship had only lasted two months.

In fact, the only person he really felt connected with on a deeper emotional level, had always been Eric Cartman. There was some sort of unearthly gravitational pull that kept them together for whatever reason. They interfered in each other’s lives and created chaos for one another and yet the two always came back to the other in the end. In fact, Cartman had really cleaned up his act over the years. Even if he was still an asshole, he wasn’t the problematic douchebag he’d been back in elementary school. Kyle maybe even enjoyed his presence…though he’d never admit it.

So feeling the sting of a birthday morning initiated by thunderstorms, a Colorado rarity, a nasty birthing story from his mother, not a single birthday text from any of his friends, and the piercing sound of Ike’s bass-boosted speakers coming from his bedroom upstairs where he was surely kicking zombie ass, Kyle wasn’t having the best birthday ever to say the very least. Not even latkes and breakfast sausage could fix that. He spent the rest of the morning watching a Hulu documentary he’d been meaning to see on the housing crisis in the states. Things couldn’t get more somber, but at least now he was grateful to have a roof over his head.

“Get dressed, Kyle,” Sheila beamed. “We’re taking you to that bistro you like in Denver for lunch.”

“We can’t,” Gerald interrupted.

“What? Why not?” Kyle frowned.

“The weather conditions are recommending we don’t take the highways unless absolutely necessary,” he explained.

“Oh, come on,” Sheila glared. “It’s just a little rain, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

And as if right on command, there was a huge _boom_ of thunder. The TV flickered off and then everything went dark.

“Seriously?!” Kyle scoffed. “A power outage?!”

“Never mind,” Sheila sighed. She flipped on her cell phone’s flashlight and navigated through the dark. “…I think right about now would be a great time for cake!”

With rain pouring and thunder rumbling on in the distance, Kyle found himself sitting at a dark table with his family, 18 candles shoved into a thick vanilla cake, lit up and dripping wax onto the white frosting. His father had given up pretending to be pleased with anything, Ike was miserable after being dragged away from his livestream, and only Sheila was trying to keep a positive outlook.

_“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Kyle…happy birthday to you...”_

The singing drowned out into the background noise and Kyle’s mind sat blank. Here he was, sitting in the dark on his 18th birthday, in a two-week-long funk, about to blow out candles with nothing to wish for but answers. A future he didn’t want, no love in life ever in sight, what was he doing wrong and what was he doing right? Face slumped in his hands, Kyle heard the chime of his mother sing out.

 _“Blow out your candles, bubbe!”_ she enthused. _“And don’t forget to make a wish!”_

He pinched his eyes shut and blew.

 _I wish I knew everything was gonna be alright,_ he thought. _I wish I could see my future._

A flash of lightning glazed over the room with blinding light, and Kyle felt his body rise from his seat. He was spinning in the air. Had he been struck by lightning? Impossible, they were on the first floor of his two-story house. Was he falling off his chair in slow motion? No, he felt weightless. Had he fallen asleep at the table, transported to some kind of bizarre dream? And yet, it all felt so real…

 _“Help!”_ he called. _“Can anybody hear me?! Help!”_

Finally, the spinning had ended and Kyle felt himself crash down to the ground.

He wasn’t in Colorado anymore.

“Where am I?” Kyle murmured, rubbing his temples. He had fallen onto some sort of concrete. When his vision focused, he realized where he was: a sidewalk. A sidewalk, concrete! He turned his head and saw skyscrapers around him, heard the bustling of traffic; businessmen speaking aggressively into their phones and enthusiastic joggers pushing their ways through the crowd.

He recognized this place from every classic movie ever. _New York City._

“What…what the fuck…”

_“Kyle Broflovski. We meet, at last.”_

He spun on his heel to confront a transparent, hooded man. “Holy shit!”

The man laughed heartily, reaching out to shake Kyle’s hand. _“Fear not, my child. You are in no danger.”_

“Who are you?” Kyle grabbed at his own chest in panic. “The Grim Reaper?”

 _“No. Not at all. I wish,”_ he chortled. _“I’m the Guardian of Time.”_

“Are you shitting me?” Kyle glared. “Is this some sort of stupid _prank?_ Cause I don’t think it’s very funny.”

_“Be at ease. I only came to grant your birthday wish.”_

He paused. “My wish?”

 _“Yes,”_ he clarified. _“You wished for some insight into your future. Some reassurance that things would be ‘alright’ in the end. And I’m here to grant that very wish for you.”_

He scratched his head in confusion. “But…but won’t my mom notice I’m missing?”

 _“You are believed to be sleeping, back in the present day,”_ the guardian explained. _“For this time being, I can take you to see your future and give you the closure you so desire.”_

Now, he was hesitant. Sure, Kyle wanted answers…but this was so bizarre. And did he really trust answers from some weirdo in a hood?

“I don’t know…” Kyle muttered. “Is this even legal?”

 _“The concept of legality does not apply here,”_ he explained. _“Besides…I know you want answers.”_

And he did. He kept quiet and just focused on the gorgeous apartment building ahead of him. “Whoa…” Kyle squinted his eyes. “That’s where I live?”

 _“No._ That’s _where you live,”_ the Guardian pointed upwards, not to any apartment suite, but to the penthouse on top.

“Shut up,” Kyle’s jaw dropped. “Shut up. How the fuck can I afford a _penthouse?”_

 _“You took after your father,”_ he replied. _“A very successful lawyer.”_

Kyle furrowed his brows together. Something was missing from that explanation. “But a penthouse in Manhattan? How can I afford that?”

_“It might have to do with your spouse.”_

His eyes widened. “My spouse?”

_“Your spouse makes a lot of money.”_

Kyle grinned. No, he wasn’t shallow, but if they were living in a Manhattan penthouse, that had to mean something. That meant a lot of money. That meant he was married to someone _great._ “Who is she?” he laughed. “An actress? A model? An NBA cheerleader?”

_“She?”_

“My wife.”

The guardian’s expression turned to one of amusement. A smirk, even. He raised his brows and with a smug look on his face, spoke at last. _“Would you like to take a look inside?”_

“But won’t it screw everything up if I know my own fate?” Kyle hesitated.

 _“On the contrary,”_ he replied. _“In_ your _case, it’d be a saving grace.”_

What did that mean? Kyle raised a brow but his curiosity increased. Clearly, he was living a great life…practicing law in the big city, living in a gorgeous penthouse in downtown Manhattan, married to a successful woman…if a glance into his future would be a ‘saving grace’, who was he to reject that?

With much hesitation and bubbling nerves, Kyle swallowed the lump in his throat and gave the Guardian a stern look. “Take me there.”

_Snap._

Now, they were in the penthouse. Modern, with pops of colorful here and there. Kyle, himself, was never concerned about decor, so it must have been the work of his wife who evidently had expensive taste. One wall was detailed with framed awards and diplomas. Some for television, some for music, art…none of those could have been his. But upon a closer look, Kyle noted there were some for law and education: his own. He had graduated from Harvard Law? _Harvard?!_ Apparently, he could do better than the University of Colorado Boulder.

“Whoa…”

 _“That’s right,”_ the guardian nodded. _“Being rejected by Harvard made you work even harder. Your second application, you were accepted and you thrived, graduating in the top ten percentile.”_

“Thrived?! No _kidding_ I thrived!”

The guardian gestured to a framed photo nearing his diplomas. It was a man, standing proudly next to a sleek sign.

_BROFLOVSKI, CAPLAN, & PEREZ_

“No way!” Kyle enthused. “I’m a partner?! At _28?!”_

 _“Yes,”_ he nodded. _“You won the biggest case in the firm fighting in defensive of a controversy surrounding your spouse, so you were made partner. You’ve been very successful in New York.”_

“I’m the _first_ partner?!”

_“It’s alphabetical.”_

“This is so cool!” Kyle laughed. He peered closer at the photo. “I’m the tallest partner! I’m finally good-looking!”

He arched a brow. _“Uh, right.”_

“Show me more, I wanna see more!”

The guardian shrugged, leading him further around the penthouse. “If you insist.”

The two entered the master bedroom. It was huge. Floor to ceiling windows, a flat-screen TV across from the king-sized bed. Pot lights and stunning decor. Gorgeous, original art and a door leading to a huge bathroom, with a jet-soaking bathtub. It was a dream room.

“What?” Kyle snickered. “No California-king?”

 _“Oh, you looked into one but your spouse likes intimacy,”_ the guardian shrugged. _“Seemed like a waste of money to you.”_

Kyle made his way over to a second door. “What’s this?”

_“That’s the second closet.”_

“Closet?”

 _“Your partner’s closet,”_ he said. _“Your spouse has a much larger wardrobe.”_

He jiggled the door open and tentatively stepped inside. The closet was huge and yet packed full of clothing. Corsets, expensive-looking dresses, designer purses, shoes, bags; if Kyle knew what Paris Hilton’s closet looked like, he’d guess it was this. It was the closet of an absolute _diva…_ but he was most enthusiastic about a wrapped box with a tag attached.

_Kyle — Unwrap me to unwrap me again._

“Whoa…” he mused, scooping up the gift. “Can I…can I open this?”

 _“Go ahead,”_ he insisted. _“We are but mere visions in this world. We have no physical impact here.”_

Kyle tore through the packaging and slipped open the box. There was something lying inside, concealed by tissue paper. He lifted the crinkling pages.

 _Lingerie._ And not just any kind of lingerie. The really… _pretty…_ kind. Lacy, silk, a thong, studded with what he could recognize were _real_ diamonds. The bra was of decent size. There was a note at the bottom that smelled heavily of perfume.

_Happy birthday, hottie. I can’t wait for you to rip this off my bare body. Bring your manhood._

“Oh, wow,” his face went beet red. “This is really…provocative.”

_“Hmmm.”_

“You’d think she’d be a more sophisticated writer for someone who makes this much money.”

_“You’d think.”_

Kyle peered around the room again. So, he knew his wife worked in the industry of pop culture. Maybe she did PR…maybe she wrote for television. Maybe she was an actress. And on top of that, she was buying expensive lingerie to wear _just for him_ on their anniversary. Now, as far as Kyle knew, his type was sweet…quiet…caring and thoughtful. The woman he was married to seemed bolder. Driven. A little fiery. But he was always up for a challenge.

“Can I…can I see her?”

_“See who?”_

“My wife,” he clarified. “I’d like to see my wife.”

The guardian shrugged. _“Oh, okay. Alright, then. Follow me.”_

Kyle followed him down the hallway and they approached what looked like a living space. A large kitchen, huge ceilings, and more gigantic windows with a view of the sparkling night city. Kyle could hear his heart pounding. From small-town Colorado to a penthouse in Manhattan with a woman who was clearly his dream-come-true. He’d been having the sorriest birthday of his life, but this changed everything. This was like a wake-up call. He’d be living the life he deserved in just 10 short years. It was a beacon of hope.

He took a deep breath in and out, as he heard voices. They were about to turn the corner.

_“Are you ready to see your future?”_

He nodded, heart pounding. “More ready than ever.”

They rounded the corner and sure enough, there was a man seated at the couch, clutching a glass of scotch. There were documents spread out across the coffee table and a slice of chocolate cake with two forks and a candle stuck in the center.

“That’s me!” Kyle whispered. “Can they see us?”

 _“Haven’t you ever seen_ A Christmas Carol?”

“I’m Jewish.”

He shook his head. _“No. We’re apparitions. Your future self can’t see us.”_

Future-Kyle had slunk back into the couch, throwing back his drink. _“What’re you doing in there?”_ he called to the room over. _“I thought we were having cake.”_

 _“Oh, we’re having cake,”_ a singsong voice replied. _“You ready to lick the icing off?”_

Kyle’s eyes widened. “Should we be _watching_ this?!”

 _“Shush…”_ the guardian snapped. _“I don’t have internet access, y’know. This is the best part of my week.”_

His nose crinkled. “Gross.”

Finally, his partner had emerged from the other room. From where the two were standing, he could only see her backside: a slinky dress, long blonde hair, and she was _thick._ Overweight, definitely, with a charm about her.

“Who is that?” Kyle mused. “A _prostitute?!”_

 _“No. Your partner,”_ he scoffed. _“That’s your partner”_

The woman made her way onto Future-Kyle’s lap, slipping her arms around his neck. _“Happy birthday, baby.”_

Future-Kyle clutched her face in his hands and the two shared a passionate but brief kiss, before he softly pulled away. _“What’s with the wig?”_

_“Thought you’d like it.”_

_“I do,”_ he said. _“But I’d rather just see you tonight.”_ And with one swift moment, Future-Kyle tugged off the wig to reveal short, but shaggy brown hair. The two kissed again and 18-year-old Kyle could feel his cheeks burning.

“I shouldn’t be seeing this.”

 _“Oh, but wait,”_ the guardian smiled mischievously. _“You still don’t know who your spouse is.”_

Kyle cocked a brow and looked closer. “How can I tell?!”

_“Just wait.”_

Future-Kyle flipped his wife onto her back, finally revealing her face to 18-year-old Kyle, and that was the moment 18-year-old Kyle realized his “wife” wasn’t a “wife” at all. He recognized that face, even aged up 10 years and he felt his hands get clammy as all the realization suck in.

“No.”

_“Yes.”_

_“No.”_

_“Yes.”_

His eyes widened with horror. _“No!”_ he shouted. “No, Future-me is not married to… _to…I cannot be married to—“_

 _“Oh, Cartman…”_ spoke a breathy voice.

 _“NOOOOOOOO!”_ Kyle fell to his knees. _“I’M MARRIED TO ERIC CARTMAN?!”_

His guardian cackled smugly, as the room spun around in circles and the visions of his impending future blurred and the two were sucked into a vortex.

“How can it be?!” he shouted. “You’re lying to me!”

 _“I don’t inspire realities,”_ his reply echoed from the vortex. _“I only project them.”_

_“This is the worst birthday eveeeeeeeer!”_

_“Accept your fate, Kyle,”_ the voice encouraged. _“It is inevitable.”_

And in an instant, there was a massive _THUD!_

* * *

When Kyle came to, his eyes darted open. He was lying on the floor of his bedroom. It was so silent he could’ve heard a pin drop. Everything felt surreal and a little weird. He sat straight up and peered around the room. It was as if nothing had happened, until out of the corner of his eye, he saw a spinning light in the corner of his room flash and disappear.

“What the fuck…” he murmured, wiping his forehead. He’d clearly been sweating. It has stopped storming, but it still wasn’t even warm out. A knock on his door snapped him back to reality.

“Kyle, bubbeleh,” Sheila slipped in his bedroom door. “I heard a loud noise, are you okay?”

He blinked slowly, rubbing his eyes. “How did I get here?”

“Kyle?” her brows crinkled in concern. “Did you fall out of bed?”

“What?”

“You took a nap after cake,” she smoothed his hair down. “I think a few friends stopped by to wish you a ‘happy birthday’, are you feeling up for that?”

Friends? His mind automatically flashed to his vision of Eric Cartman, makeup smudged down his cheeks and an older version of himself kissing his cheeks. It was petrifying. “Who?”

“Stan and Kenny…” she rubbed shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…” his stomach flopped. Had that been real? Had it been a dream? At least Cartman wasn’t coming. He wasn’t certain he was ready to see Cartman after that. “I’m fine.”

“Great. Get up, now,” she said, heading over to his dresser. “And wear something a little nice than that, will you?”

Kyle groaned, rising to his feet. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a _South Park Cows_ t-shirt. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Those are both so worn out. I wanna take birthday photos without you looking like a ragamuffin,” she shook her head, reaching for the box on his desk. “Ooh, Kyle, what about this?”

Kyle’s eyes widened as he was reminded of the package from his ‘future’ and what its contents entailed. “Mom, _NO!”_

“What?” she frowned and pulled something out of the wrapping paper. She held it up over her chest. It was far from a pair of silky, diamond-studded lingerie. A University of Colorado t-shirt. “You don’t like the gift from your aunt?”

“…oh,” he sighed a breath of relief.

“Kyle, I know you’re not all that enthused about going to U of C in the fall, but you can always apply for Harvard a second time.”

He swallowed.

“Besides,” Sheila continued. “You’re going to look so handsome in this. The school colors’ll make your eyes pop.”

Kyle stuck in his hands in his pockets. “Thanks, Mom”

“Now put on a pair of jeans and run a comb through your hair,” she ordered, reaching up to grab hold of and pinch his nose. “I can’t wait to take pictures of my big birthday boy. I can’t believe you’re an adult.”

Kyle sighed and waited for her to leave before he started getting ready. He pulled on his jeans and slipped into the U of C t-shirt, before heading to the bathroom to fix his hair as much as he could possibly fix his hair. Curly, red, and constantly getting in his face, it had never not posed a problem. He pinched his eyes shut, trying desperately to put Cartman out of his mind and then headed down the staircase.

_“SURPRISE!”_

Kyle’s eyes widened in shock. The moment he’d reached the middle step, he was greeted by the entire entourage of his family and friends. From classmates to close friends, the house was packed with people.

“Surprise, bubbeleh!” Sheila sang. “Everybody’s here!”

He made his way down the staircase and was dissolved by the crowd. Stan stepped forward, grabbing and shaking him by the shoulder enthusiastically, while Kenny subtly lifted his hoodie to reveal a few beers stuffed in his belt. Even a few of his exes had shown up.

“Happy birthday, dude!” Stan grinned. _“18!”_

“Just three more years before you can buy legal ganja!” Kenny enthused and Kyle prayed his mother hadn’t overheard…not that he was the type to smoke weed anyway.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” Kyle fist-bumped his friends. “I had no idea my mom was doing this for me.”

“I mean, she had a little help,” Stan said.

“From you guys?”

“Actually, it was Cartman’s idea.”

Kyle’s face went white. _“Cartman’s_ idea?”

“Yeah,” Kenny shrugged. “I think he just wanted an excuse to have a party.”

“So, um,” Kyle stammered. “It was his idea just to _throw_ the party? Like, he’s not coming or anything…”

“No, he’s coming,” Stan peered back at the door. “He’s gonna be here any—“

And speaking of the devil, the front door slammed open and Eric Cartman shoved his way through.

“Okay, losers!” he shouted. “The party can officially begin!”

Kyle felt his fists clench up. So, the party was all _Cartman’s_ idea. Now it was all coming into place. He didn’t know how he’d done it, but that had to explain his weird “dream” about the future. It was all some big prank. Some big, suspicious, Eric Cartman-dominated plan to ruin his already shitty, 18th birthday.

 _“You,”_ he narrowed his eyes. “So, this was all _your_ idea?”

“No need to thank me, Kyle,” Cartman rubbed his hands together deviously. “The pleasure was all mine…and now, yours.”

Kyle raised a brow. “Can I _talk_ to you for a minute?”

“Sure, bro. Whatever would you like to converse about?”

“You know _exactly_ what I wanna chat about.”

“Oh, I get it,” Cartman smirked. “You wanna thank me for your killer party, but you’re too shy to do it outright. It’s okay, Kyle. I know you love it. I know you love _me.”_

“Let’s talk,” Kyle ground his teeth together, grabbing Cartman’s wrist. “In _private.”_

“Jesus Christ, fine!”

Kyle pulled him around the corner into the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and locked it behind them. He took note of the weirdly flustered look on Cartman’s face and tried to ignore it.

“What do you _want,_ Kyle, damn!” Cartman snorted. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I don’t know _how_ you did what you did or really _why_ you did it, but I’ve had the last of you trying to get in my head,” he glared. “What you did was completely invasive of my privacy!”

“What? Throwing you a _surprise_ party?” Cartman scoffed. “Hello, moron, I was trying to do something _nice_ for you.”

“Oh, cause that’s just so in-character for you,” Kyle snapped. “Not the party, asshole, the…the _prank_ from earlier.”

“What prank?”

“Don’t play innocent with me!” he spat. “The prank! The Future-Kyle prank? The guardian of time thing? The vortex? Did you spike my drink or something? Who’s in on this?”

For once in his life, Cartman looked completely speechless. For once in his life, he had no idea what he was supposed to say. “The… _what?”_

And then Kyle realized how crazy he must have sounded, talking about vortexes and magical spirit guardians and visions of the future. Now that he said it out loud, he felt pretty stupid. He was _certain_ Cartman was capable of such mindfuckery, but he wasn’t quite sure how. All his knew, is that something wasn’t right if even Cartman was shooting him a confused stare that genuine.

“The…I…” he hesitated. “I know you’re up to something…you got all into my head.”

“Listen, Kyle. I know how special I am to you, and you’re always thinking about me, but this is nothing new to me. I have many admirers, and you’re just one of them,” ignored the two inches Kyle had on him in height and reached up to pat his shoulder. “You’re going to have to move on.”

Kyle blinked. “Excuse me, what?”

“Now…I’d like to return to the party, as Josh is all alone by himself and I’m not being a very good host.”

He furrowed his brows together. “Who the hell is _Josh?”_

“My boyfriend.”

His eyes widened. “Your… _boyfriend._ Shut up.”

“What?”

“You don’t have a _boyfriend.”_

“Yes…I do,” he shot Kyle a dirty look. “He goes to North Park and I met him during a debate tournament.”

“Um, we’re in debate club together, and I’ve _never_ once seen you talk to some _guy_ from North Park,” Kyle scoffed.

“What’re you, spying on me?” he rolled his eyes. “Geez, Kyle. Can I go?”

He frowned. What left was there to say? “Um…yeah, sure. You can go.”

“Thank you.”

Cartman closed the door behind him, leaving Kyle to simmer in his own thoughts.

If it hadn’t been some elaborate prank from Cartman, then what had that dream been? Why was Cartman dating some guy? Why hadn’t he told Kyle, and why didn’t Kyle know? And why was he so _angry_ about it? It was reminiscent of the way he’d felt seeing Cartman holding hands with Heidi that first time, back in fourth grade. Why was Cartman the only common denominator?

He splashed some cool water on his face before exiting the bathroom.

Returning to the party, Kyle made a beeline for Stan and Kenny.

“Cartman has a boyfriend?”

“Oh, yeah,” Stan nodded in the other direction. “I mean, I didn’t know it was that serious, but yeah. He posted about it on Instagram this morning.”

“Yeah, whatever, I barely use social media,” Kyle replied. “Can you believe he would just bring some random _stranger_ to my house?”

Kenny shrugged. “Yeah. Cartman has zero manners.”

“Why’re you so mad about it, anyway?” Stan asked. “He’ll probably spend a lot less time annoying you.”

“This is bullshit,” Kyle muttered. “I don’t believe him.”

“Why?” Stan rolled his eyes. “He came out, like, two years ago. Is it really that shocking someone from another town who knows nothing about Cartman’s history would be interested in him?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

Stan and Kenny gave each other knowing looks but left Kyle off to his own devices.

He found Cartman hanging out by the table with pizza and drinks, talking to a guy wearing a Guess sweater. Of course Cartman would be into someone with douchebag taste. Kyle already had a few inches on Cartman, but this guy had a few inches on Kyle. And for whatever reason, that only added to his fury.

“Cartman, you can’t just invite a stranger into my house.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “Oh, hey, Kyle! Joshua, this is my friend, Kyle.”

“The one this party is for?”

“Yes.”

“And the one who thinks _Family Guy_ offers up enlightening modern political commentary?”

He sighed. “Yes, unfortunately, that’s the one.”

“I never said that!” Kyle snapped.

“Don’t be fucking rude, Kyle!” Cartman glared. “Say ‘hi’ to Josh.”

Kyle eyed Cartman’s date up and down. The suave way he dressed…his pretentious demeanor. If Kyle didn’t already like him, he was about to not like him a whole lot more.

“Hi,” he murmured. “Welcome to my house.”

“Josh is going to _Cornell_ next year,” Cartman bragged.

“Oh, please,” he grinned smugly. “I was actually considering doing a year abroad. Charity work in Ghana. But Cornell practically begged me to join their basketball roster, so who would I be to say no?”

“I don’t know. A person who prioritizes his ego over generosity?” Kyle scoffed. Now, he was getting a little irrationally angry. If Cartman wanted to date some stupid douchebag who humbled-bragged his way through party chitchat, it was his choice. So why was it bothering him as much as it was?

“Shut up, Kyle,” Cartman glared, tugging Josh’s arm. “Who would help those poor, underprivileged basketball players if Josh didn’t join their team?”

“It’s an Ivy League team!”

“A league out of _yours.”_

Kyle fumed. “Get out of my house!”

“It was _my_ idea to throw you this nice big party, asshole!”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I was doing something _nice.”_

“You wouldn’t know nice if it hit you in the fucking _face!”_

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know you had something to do with that vision!”

“You’re just _jealous_ ‘cause he’s so much _better_ than you!”

And then, it was all-out warfare, just like it had been in the good ol’ days. Kyle lunged for Cartman, who ducked him, and initially it would have all been fine if Sheila hadn’t brought out a second birthday cake for the party guests.

“Come back here!” Kyle shouted at Cartman. “I don’t know how you did what you did but I know you did it!”

“You’re crazy!”

“Fuck you!”

Kyle reached up under the cake for a scoop and chucked it in Cartman’s direction. Cartman ducked and it hit the curtain behind him, the candle on top setting it ablaze. Almost immediately, the party guests watched in horror as the curtains went up in flame.

“Oh my _god!”_ Sheila shouted. “Everyone outside, _everybody get outside!”_

Panic rose in the air, as people screamed and scrambled to run outside. Kyle futilely threw his full cup of Sprite in the direction of the curtains, but nothing helped. Cartman remained frozen on the spot, staring at the flames that grew larger with every waning second.

 _“Cartman!”_ Kyle shouted. _“Come on!”_

“Kyle, I—“

“Come _on,”_ he grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. _“Let’s go!”_

The party had dashed outside into the backyard, huddling and shaking with fear in little groups. The one advantage to living in a town that small was that the firefighters were over almost immediately. Smoke billowed out of the side windows and soon ceased as everything calmed down. Kyle sat on the lawn, wondering how his day could have gotten any worse than a birthday that began with lightning and ended up in flames, with a romantic vision of the future revolving around Eric Cartman. He had no clue.

Ah, the fire. There it was. His third bad omen. Now it all made sense.

“Hey.” He looked upwards to see Stan standing before him. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, just wonderful,” Kyle muttered, as Stan took a seat beside him. “Best birthday ever. This one almost tops Casa Bonita!”

“I mean, you did start the fire.”

_“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!”_

“Was throwing a flaming piece of cake at Cartman an accident?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. _“No.”_

“Yeah, exactly,” he said. “I don’t get you. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. I mean, it’s just like I said. This whole party was his idea to begin with.”

“And look at how well _that_ turned out,” he murmured. “I can’t thank him enough.

“Listen, Kyle…I know you and Cartman have had your…differences. And rightfully so, ‘cause I know the kind of person he was growing up. Trust me,” he sighed. “But he wasn’t doing anything wrong tonight. You just kinda went after him.”

“I know.”

“Is it because of his date?”

_“No.”_

“Is it because you’re upset about Heidi, or Harvard, or…”

_“No.”_

“Is it bec—“

“I had a weird dream, okay?!” Kyle groaned. “I…I had a dream. Or, maybe it wasn’t a dream. Something _happened.”_

“What happened?” Stan asked. “Like, with Cartman.”

“My mom served another birthday cake earlier today, with lunch,” he mumbled. “And when I blew out the candles, I wished for insight into my future. ‘Cause everything’s been such a letdown lately. I just wanted to know if I’ve been making the right choices. If I’m ever gonna amount to anything.”

“If you’re upset about these kind of things, you can always tell us, dude,” he said. “We’re your best friends.”

“No, that’s not the end,” Kyle sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and debated back in forth inside his head whether or not to tell Stan the truth. It sounded insane when he said it outloud…a magical birthday wish that gave him a vision into his future? Who the hell would believe that? Although South Park was already such a weird town, maybe Stan would understand. But was he ready to hear what Stan had to say? “I had…a _vision.”_

“A vision?”

“Like, uh…” he muttered. “Have you ever seen _A Christmas Carol?”_

“No, Kyle. I hate Christmas movies.”

“Okay, look, whatever!” he said. “I wished on my candles for a vision into my future and I got one.”

Stan narrowed his eyes. “Like…a literal vision?” he asked. “Y’know…it’s okay if you were smoking pot. I’m not gonna tell your mom.”

“I had a vision. And in that vision, I was a big-time, successful lawyer in Manhattan. In a penthouse,” he exclaimed. “Stan, I went to Harvard. I had _abs!”_

“So? That all sounds pretty good to me.”

“Yeah, but…get this,” Kyle bit his lip, debating whether or not, to be honest. “I was married to… _Cartman.”_

Stan stared at him blankly for a moment. “You had a sex dream about _Cartman?”_

“It wasn’t a dream and there was no sex!” Kyle snapped. “It was just really weird!”

“Okay, so…you had a dream where you married Cartman…” he shrugged. “I guess that’s kinda weird, but so what?”

“So, ever since, I can’t be around him,” Kyle sighed. “Everything felt so real, and it was so weird, and…I just don’t know how to behave anymore.”

“You like him.”

Kyle glared in return. _“No._ I’m not gay.”

“How do you know?”

“Cause I’m not into guys! Well, I mean, I’ve never had a real connection with a girl either. I haven’t had any real connections with _anyone._ My one real connection has always been with—“

“With Cartman,” Stan nodded. “Yeah, dude. Everyone knows.”

“Everyone knows?”

“Everyone knows,” he shrugged. “You and Cartman like each other. Why do you think he showed up with a date?”

“I don’t know.”

“To make you jealous.”

“But you were defending him.”

“Yeah, because he wasn’t doing anything to ruin the party!” Stan said. “That was all you. God, it’s painful always being stuck in the middle with you and Cartman. You like each other, everyone knows it, even your fucking subconscious knows it, you’re moving to Denver in the fall, are you _ever_ gonna notice it yourself? It’s been years of this back and forth. How many major disasters do you and Cartman have to cause before you just do something about it?”

Kyle blinked. _“What?”_

“Come on, Kyle. You can’t say you’ve never picked up on it.”

Things turned silent for what felt like forever, but Kyle knew it had only been a few moments. His hands were getting sweaty and his chest felt tight. Maybe he had been avoiding the inevitable for too long.

“I mean…I guess I’ve always felt some sort of emotional bond to him, but I figured it would just…” he sighed. “Disappear, at some point. I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Well…now you do,” he said. “And, look. I definitely don’t wanna walk in on you two in the middle of—“

_“—stop!”_

“—but, you should probably confront it at some point,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m only pissed I’m gonna lose the pool.”

“What pool?”

“There’s a pool…betting on how and when you and Cartman, will…well—“

“—you can stop there,” Kyle buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe you were fucking _betting_ on us.”

“Kenny’s gonna win,” Stan shook his head, as Kenny made a lewd gesture in that direction. “And here I thought my guess so close.”

“What was your guess?”

“You don’t wanna know. But Kenny’s was ‘vision of the future where Kyle and Cartman are married that makes the two of them realize they have feelings for each other’, making him pretty damn close,” he rose to his feet, patting Kyle on the shoulder. “So, actually do something, okay? Kenny’s gotta pay for school somehow.”

Kyle watched as Stan trailed off in search of their friends. And when he finally made his choice, he acted on it.

* * *

Sheila had been upset about the fight and the fire, no doubt, but in some stroke of a miracle, only the curtains had been damaged. The floor was a bit singed, but it was nothing that couldn’t be remedied. The living room remained blocked off until it could be cleaned up, but birthday gifts were unwrapped and strewn across the basement and all was forgiven simply because Sheila was so relieved no one had been hurt. Kyle kissed his mother goodnight, thanked her for the eventful, but bittersweet birthday, and made his way down the block.

One knock.

Two knocks.

He answered on three.

“Hey,” Kyle spoke tentatively. “Where’s Josh?”

“He went home after the fire,” Cartman murmured. “Didn’t even say goodbye.”

Kyle raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Damn, well don’t look so excited, Kyle,” he glared. “Are you here to _apologize_ for trying to _murder_ me?”

“Murder you?!” he scoffed. “I didn’t know there was a _candle_ attached.”

“I think that you did,” he crossed his arms indignantly. “I think you did and your intentions to kill me were only foiled by my catlike instincts.”

“Bullshit,” Kyle snapped. “Trust me, I’ve tried to kill you enough times to know that it never works out for me.”

“Poor thing,” he said coolly. “So then, why throw it at me, huh? Why ruin my date and the party that _I_ wanted to have for you?”

He took a deep breath in and out. Was he really considering doing it? It seemed like a ‘now or never’ type of thing. “The truth is, was…” Kyle mumbled. “I was…jealous.”

“Of me?”

“Of _Josh…”_ he looked away in shame. “I was jealous of Josh, okay?”

“Oh, I know!” Cartman mused. “Was it his muscles? Or how smart he is? Or because he’s a whole two and a half inches taller than you, Kyle, is it because he’s 6’ tall? Don’t think I haven’t measured.”

“No, asshole,” Kyle snapped. “I was _jealous,_ because he had _you.”_

His expression changed. For the second time ever, that had now happened twice in one day, Eric Cartman had been rendered speechless. “…me?”

“Yeah,” Kyle sighed with a shrug. _“You.”_

“Oh, well…” he mumbled. “Um. Would you care to come in and chat, Kyle?”

He rolled his eyes and stepped inside as Cartman led the pair into his backyard. They sat across the bench from each other in a space that felt abstract, yet all too familiar, taking turns peering away and glancing back at another, looking for ways to fill the air.

Finally, Cartman spoke. “I don’t actually like that guy.”

“Which guy?”

“Josh…” he said. “Who else?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t find him all that likeable either.”

“Yeah, same, but he’s the only gay dude I know outside of South Park, and I needed a date for your party.”

“Why?”

“I’m getting to that,” he scoffed. “See, the truth is, Kyle…I only wanted to have this party for one reason.”

“Because you needed an excuse to have a party.”

“No, shithead,” Cartman glared, avoiding Kyle’s need for eye contact. “Because you’re going away to college soon.”

“So what?” he muttered. “So is Stan. So is Butters. So is everyone.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna miss them, asshole.” Two insults in the span of a few seconds. It had been hard for Stan to drag anything out of Kyle, and so far, it hadn’t been any easier for Kyle to get it out of Cartman.

“You’re gonna miss me?”

He continued to avoid eye contact, opting to stare at his fingernails. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I thought it was obvious.”

“I’m only gonna be in Denver,” Kyle said. “That’s like, a two-hour drive.”

“I don’t have a car,” he rolled his eyes. “Plus, like…you’re not gonna be going to U of Colorado forever. Everyone knows that.”

“Why would you say that?”

Cartman twiddled his thumbs together. “Okay, well…don’t be weird about it, but…” he peered across the yard to really be certain that everyone had gone home. “I kinda had a dream…today. About you.”

Kyle raised a brow. “Not a sex dream…”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he glared. “No, I had a dream earlier that, um. That you ended up going to Harvard.”

Kyle’s blood turned cool. “Harvard…I, um. No, you know I got rejected by Harvard.”

“No, you went there _after_ Colorado. You got in after raising your grades or whatever. I don’t know how it works.”

Was it a coincidence? Or some weird sort of fateful thing? Kyle was almost scared to know, but he kept on pressing. “What else, uh…happened in this ‘dream’?”

“A lot of other stuff happened,” he muttered. “Like, I was rich and famous.”

Now, Kyle avoided eye contact. “Were you…married?”

The air was dead silent for a moment until Cartman spoke again.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “So when earlier you mentioned some sort of ‘vision’ of the future…it was totally weird. It freaked me out, ‘cause I’d had that same vision.”

“Is that why you invited a date?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I figured I could…change our fate. I don’t know.”

“I wanted to change things too,” Kyle admitted. “I mean…I mean, you and _me?_ That’s crazy. Who in their right mind would put _us_ together?”

“I know right, we have, like,” Cartman laughed nervously. “Zero chemistry. Plus, I hate you.”

“And I hate you even more.”

“Nuh-uh, I hate you the _most,”_ he grinned, then biting his lip in hesitation. “I hate you so much.”

Crickets chirped in the distance. The storm had ended hours and hours ago, but Kyle could feel the rainy clouds lifted from above his head and in place sat a rainbow.

It was true. Kyle and Cartman had a history that was beyond turbulent. But when he thought about it, he thought about everything they had been through together. Rescuing each other, being there for the other in tough times, even putting off his feelings and projecting onto girls to avoid what he already knew:

They were in love.

And the one thing he’d been avoiding the most in his vision was the fact that they’d been happy. So maybe the key to breaking up all the misery between them was the very thing they’d been avoiding for all those years. And right now, they were facing it head-on.

He only had one question left.

“But…what really matters is, Cartman,” Kyle leaned back against the table where they were seated. “Did you like what you saw?”

Cartman stared back at him, this time refusing to break eye contact.

_“I did.”_

“So…” he sighed. “Should we just quit avoiding it?”

“Quit avoiding what?”

“Y’know,” Kyle shrugged. “The inevitable.”

He leaned across the table and the two locked lips for the first time ever.

There was no point in avoiding the inevitable.

And they soon wonder why would either of them want to.


End file.
